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He didn’t offer her a seat; instead he stared down at her from close range. Before she
could react, he slipped his arms around her and drew her close. He pressed a hot,
devouring kiss to her lips. She moaned softly, shocked and wildly aroused. Need spiraled
through her body. His tongue plunged deep and without mercy, stroking inside with pure
sexual intent. He slipped one leg between hers until her womanhood rubbed against his
hard thigh.
She tore her mouth from his, her breath coming fast, her pulse pounding. “Jack. This
isn’t exactly a good idea.”
“Yeah, it is. I needed to kiss you, and I figured I’d take advantage before you could
think of some reason to keep your distance.”
Disturbed by his perception, she slowly pushed free from his embrace. She plastered
on a smile. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He crossed his arms and looked down at her from his superior height. God, he looked
delicious. Sexy. Powerful. She wanted to eat him up, lick him all over. The temptation to
reach for him blindsided her, and she took a deep breath to find restraint.
Before he could do or say anything that might push her back into his arms, she said,
“I never knew you were so impulsive, Jack.”
His lips twisted in a sardonic smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It can be. Sometimes.”
“Like last night when I kissed you before the guard came in?”
Oh, last night. I don’t know what to think of that. Don’t want to think of it.
She shrugged, a small panic welling in her throat. “It might have been.”
He seemed to consider her statement and his gentle smile disappeared. “Keep it light
and easy, right?”
She nodded.
An awkward silence ensued until he launched the conversation in another direction
entirely. “I got a call from a Miranda Butterfield less than an hour ago.”
He explained about the call in detail.
“And you don’t want to do it?” Autumn asked.
“It’s bad enough I’m doing this interview with you, now some radio station wants to
make a big deal out of what happened at the nightclub?” He jammed his hands into the
pockets of his uniform pants. “This is spiraling out of control. All I was doing was my
job, Autumn. Nothing more, nothing less.”
She admired his modesty, even as she allowed doubts to creep into her psyche. She
knew he’d done his job carrying her out of the fire, and would have done it for any
woman who couldn’t walk on her own. Yet, for a wild second she wondered if she might
mean something extraordinary to him. That Jack felt a special urgency to find and save
her. Autumn thought she’d seen out-of-his mind worry in Jack’s eyes as he’d cupped her
face and begged her to tell him she was all right.
Irritation warred with reasonableness. “I didn’t realize you were that put out about
me interviewing you. I know you didn’t want to at first, but now that I hear you saying
it’s bad enough, well if that’s the way you feel about it, I can call this off.”
Emotions flickered through his eyes, rapid fire and difficult to read. She waited,
almost holding her breath.
He shook his head. “Elliott wants a good story and you’re the one he’s tapped for it.”
She decided to give him an olive branch. “If you don’t want to participate, he’ll have
to understand.”
“But will you?” he asked softly, exasperation draining from his face.
“Of course. But I’ll have to renege on my part of the deal, too.”
He nodded, then said nothing.
“Jack, I’m blown away by the craziness the photo caused. Maybe if people heard
about your experiences, this frenzy would stop. We’ll saturate them with details and
they’ll eventually have their fill.”
“Cherry stopped by and made a big deal out of my sudden popularity.” Jack
shrugged. “Most of the women who stopped by here to bring us cookies and cakes and
things like that were people’s grandmothers. They didn’t want a date with me.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or amazed. “Did that bother you?”
“I don’t want to find dates that way. I don’t think a man is something special for just
doing his job.”
Gratitude filled her heart. She touched his arm. “I’m so glad you did your job.”
They stood, silent and still, for what seemed a lifetime. She couldn’t take her gaze
away from his, locked in a sweet battle that tugged her from happiness to apprehension.
Autumn’s heart thumped wild and free in her chest. She loved the feeling of his warmth
beneath her fingers. She couldn’t ignore the strength beneath her touch and the heady
pleasure it gave her to touch him. A sweet, aching need rose low in her belly, reminding
her of the excitement she’d experienced in his arms not so long ago.
She pulled back with reluctance, away from the languorous, steady-building
exhilaration strumming in her system and threatening to remove every shred of her
professionalism.
A loud knock on the door made Jack reach for it and he jerked it open. Hank stood
on the other side with a curious gleam in his eyes. “Hey, the Moroccan surprise is starting
to get a little brown.”
Jack smiled and gestured for Autumn to proceed in front of him. “Dinner is served.”
During dinner several men from the firehouse gave her curious glances. She had to
admit eating with these guys made her a little twitchy. It didn’t seem to matter she’d once
fought fires for a living. Once a firefighter, always a firefighter. The brotherhood didn’t
leave a person because they no longer did the job. She hovered between respect,
apprehension, and a sense of belonging. Most of all, she liked seeing Jack in his element,
joking and having a good time with true friends. Envy played a part in her emotions.
Jack’s Moroccan chicken turned out to be a hit, despite Hank’s good-natured ribbing
about exotic dishes. By the end of the meal, Hank rubbed his stomach and declared the
recipe a winner.
“I’m leaving you buzzards to clean up the mess,” Jack said as he stood up.
Boos came from the table, and Autumn laughed as she followed Jack toward the
unoccupied office they’d retreated to earlier. “Dillon strikes again. That was a great meal.
Can I have the recipe?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“If you follow through with your promise and tell me about that nightmare.”
“Whether you tell me about Ground Zero or not?”
“Yep.”
“Gawd, you drive a hard bargain.” She didn’t want to tell him about her nightmares,
but she had to be fair. “It’s a deal.”
Jack closed the door as she sat at the small desk near the wall. The room, lit by
florescent bulbs, looked utilitarian. Devoid of decoration, the office seemed dreary. Rows
of bookshelves filled with firefighting manuals lined another wall.
Jack remained standing, scrutinizing the micro recorder she retrieved from her purse.
“I won’t record the interview if you’d rather I didn’t.” She kept her hand on the small
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